


Dark Phoenix: Revised

by OhMyGodspeed



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Dark Phoenix - Freeform, Fix-It, Multi, Post X-Men: First Class, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Post-X-Men: Days of Future Past, The Dark Phoenix Saga, X-Men: Dark Phoenix (Movie) Spoilers, making the movie make sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-05-02 11:36:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhMyGodspeed/pseuds/OhMyGodspeed
Summary: A fix-it fic for the movie X-Men: Dark Phoenix. Expect spoilers for the movie ahead, as well as changes to the movie canon.





	1. The Phoenix Takes Flight

Jean felt her hands begin to shake as the X-Jet was prepped for launch, overwhelmed not only by her own fears, but by the fears of those around her. Scott worried for Jean’s safety above his own as always, that protective instinct emanating less from his mind and more from his heart, but despite her desire to hone in on Scott’s warmth, Jean could feel panic set in her bones as Kurt quivered beside her, his fears louder than the rest. Kurt was a constant prayer. His mind was noisy as he let out a private, yet desperate plea to his God that they be saved from the cold, all encompassing darkness that lay ahead, waiting for them in space, though Jean was unsurprised as he was left with no response.

She didn’t know how he managed it, but out of all of them it was Peter who was level headed and unafraid. He sat behind Kurt, legs sprawled and arms thrown carelessly behind his head. He looked like something out of a James Bond film, so calm and collected that it almost annoyed Jean, though her heart softened as she watched him lean forward, patting Kurt on the shoulder.

“You ain’t got nothing to worry about,” Peter began, giving Kurt’s shoulder a little squeeze. She felt Kurt’s heart stop for a moment, a near undetectable blush flooding his indigo cheeks. Luckily enough for Kurt, Peter was much too dense to notice.

“I’m beginning to think that this is not going to be as fun as I once thought,” Kurt whispered to Peter before clearing his throat, training his bright red eyes on the cockpit window. They were pointed directly at the sky, awaiting their inevitable launch into the heavens. Onwards and upwards to rescue a group of human astronauts from a rogue solar flare.

“Prepare for launch in five.” Raven’s voice rang out from the cockpit, reverberating through the metal chamber. She offered the younger mutants an air of confidence, but Jean knew better. She knew that their precious hero, Hank’s darling Mystique, would always think Jean was a ticking time bomb, moments away from losing control and melting the skin from their bones. Hearing Raven’s thoughts shook Jean’s already tenuous resolve, causing her to wonder if she really was that much of a danger to them all. To herself. _To Scott._

“Four.” The seatbelts strapped the X-Men into place, forcing Peter to finally sit up straight in his seat. Ororo was frantically reconsidering her decision to join the X-Men.

“Three.” Jean clutched at her armrests as the thrusters engaged, taking deep breaths and doing her best to block out Kurt’s panicking thoughts and prayers.

“Two.” Hank took off his glasses and held them in his large, furry hands, worried that he’d lose them during their ascent.

“One.” Scott reached forward to take Jean by the shoulder, holding on tight in an effort to calm them both down. He was panicking too, gritting his teeth and tensing his muscles as the X-Jet finally lifted off of the ground and began to hurtle through the atmosphere. Kurt cried out in fear as they broke the sound barrier, squeezing his eyes shut and praying for it all to just be over. Peter just laughed. This speed was nothing to him, after all. Sure, the shaking was new, but he’d gone faster than this with nothing but a pair of goggles to keep his eyes from getting too dry.

The moment the X-Jet finally made it to space and slowed to a near stop, Jean let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Scott finally allowed his hand to drop back to his side, and Raven ran her fingers through her hair to calm herself down. She couldn’t appear scared, after all, or at least that’s what she told herself. She was their leader, acting in place of Charles, who was safe back on earth with his school, his students, and his willful determination to get the job done, no matter the cost.

Raven didn’t know which part of that scared her most, the fact that Charles had nothing to risk of himself or the fact that he was willing to play with all their lives for the sake of being beloved by the humans for a few more _precious_ moments. Jean could feel it. They could all feel it. It was only a matter of time before his motivations showed their true colors, and when they did they all knew that the only thing that could possibly follow was chaos.

“We’re coming up on the space shuttle. Everyone get ready,” Hank said as he placed his glasses back upon his nose, squinting as he analyzed the situation. His eyes widened as the shuttle came into view, spinning at breakneck speeds. A gasp parted his blue lips as the solar flare they’d been tasked with assessing alongside their rescue mission came into full and blinding view, burning so bright that, for a moment, Hank needed to look away. “That’s no solar flare.”

“Scott, I’m gonna need you to shoot the shuttle. We need it to slow down,” Raven ordered, doing her best to track the shuttle’s movement. Scott said nothing. He merely nodded his head and maneuvered down into position behind the X-Jet’s blaster, placing his head into the firing compartment. Once he lined up the blast with the shuttle’s tail he took the shot, eyes still faintly glowing as he watched a bit of the tail tear off. It was a small price to pay to get the shuttle to stop spinning.

“Ororo, hold the shuttle together. Kurt, Peter, hurry and grab the astronauts.” At Raven’s behest, Storm began to freeze the cracks in the shuttle’s hull as Kurt unbuckled his seatbelt and spun around, quickly grabbing hold of Peter.

“Here goes nothing,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath, as if that would help save him in the soul sucking darkness of space. He should be fine, of course. All Kurt had to do was teleport the two of them over to the other shuttle and teleport back as quick as he could, allowing Peter to round them up before anyone could so much as blink. But even though he knew they would be just fine, Peter grabbed one of the space helmets off of the wall beside them, using his silver duct tape to attach it to Kurt’s uniform.

Duct tape, always handy in a pinch. Especially when that pinch involved soothing frightened blue mutants who were stuck in outer space.

Jean watched through Peter’s mind as Kurt teleported him to the other shuttle, marveling at how the world seemed to slow down around them. She didn’t know how Peter could stand it, seeing everything happening in such slow motion, but then again he’d never known anything else. Continuing to watch carefully, Jean paid close attention as Peter rounded up the crew mates, having Kurt transport them back before any of them even knew they had been rescued.

“Wait!” One of the astronauts spoke up from behind her slightly cracked helmet, eyes wide with terror. “There’s someone missing—our commander’s still down in the cargo bay.”

The moment Raven heard that, she turned her back on the shuttle and faced the group, yellow eyes wide. “No. We can’t go back, we don’t have enough time.” But the second she took a moment to breathe, Charles spoke up from the safety of his chair, all the way back on earth.

“Just a little longer, Raven! We don’t leave people behind.”

“The shuttle is falling apart, there’s no way—” The words _they’re not_ our _people_ nearly left Raven’s lips.

“Jean can hold it _._ ” The moment Jean heard her name called as if aloud by the professor, she froze in place. She almost felt as though she were in trouble, having her name called like that by her teacher. No, nowadays Professor Xavier was more like her commanding officer. But the moment Jean’s surprise at being thrust so suddenly to the forefront subsided, she was assaulted by doubtful thoughts. Could she really hold the entire shuttle together? And if so, how long would it be before she went nuclear? Her powers were volatile enough without the added dangers of infinite space and solar flares that weren’t really solar flares, but before Jean had the chance to say anything Raven let out a sigh, pausing to look to the shuttle. Raven’s red brows furrowed as she saw the strange lights begin to tear the craft apart despite Ororo’s best efforts to hold it together. If they were going to do this Charles’ way, it had to be now.

“Can you do it, Jean?” Raven asked, voice emotionless, mind as conflicted as ever.

Jean knew that if she so much as hesitated, Raven would send them right home, leaving the Commander behind to burn or suffocate to death without a second thought. “I can,” she said, doing her best to sound as if she knew what she was doing. Or about to be doing. Because holding the fragile pieces of a burning space shuttle together is something every twenty-three year old should know how to do.

Taking ahold of Kurt’s sleeve, Jean nodded her head to Raven and Hank in the front seat. Scott reached up to give her hand a squeeze, but as Kurt teleported the two of them away, Scott’s touch fell from Jean’s hand like sand between her fingers. She instantly missed his warmth, though it was quickly replaced by the massive cosmic force lying just beyond the NASA shuttle’s metal walls. Jean could feel it call out to her, and for a second she was stunned by its power. Catching herself staring into the light, Jean shook her head and extended her arms, patching the shuttle together by sheer force of will.

In the back of her mind, Jean could feel Kurt frantically teleporting around until he finally grabbed onto the Commander, though it wasn’t her main focus. Instead, all she could do was focus on the immense power hurtling towards them as she desperately clung to the shuddering pieces of the spacecraft. She could hear Kurt’s voice echo in her ears, but before he could finish, Jean was enveloped in that warm light, the world going bright white and silent around her as her nerves were scorched by power.

_Your mind is fractured, girl. I shall heal what has been broken._

The blinding light bled away, leaving the bittersweet taste of nostalgia on Jean’s tongue. She almost felt as if she was lost in a dream, though Jean still couldn’t tell if it was to be a sweet one or a nightmare. Wading through the thick molasses of her memory, Jean felt a sleeping power thrum deep inside of her, filling a void in her heart and in her head that she hadn’t known was there. As the void was woven back together, slowly becoming whole once again as each stitch was carefully sewn back into place, Jean began to remember wolves howling on the radio. A crash. But most importantly, Jean remembered that she was supposed to have learned a lesson that day, though no matter what she did she could not yet remember what that lesson was.

Before Jean had a chance to question what she was shown, all light, knowledge, and consciousness was torn away from her. It was as if her mind had simply shut off, allowing a chance for something else to slip in unnoticed. She saw nothing. Heard nothing. Felt nothing. And even as Kurt teleported to her side to bring her back onto the X-Jet, her body was wholly unresponsive.

“Jean!” Scott’s voice was a dull drumbeat against Jean’s skull as Kurt set her down, care and grace in his motions. Kurt then backed up, giving the two of them as much room as possible. Jean could feel as Scott took her hand, tears collecting behind his visor as she lay there, skin beginning to glow with raw, unfiltered power. Scott squeezed her hand gently, and in that moment Jean felt Scott’s overwhelming and passionate fear flood over her, dousing the heat in her veins. It was enough to wake her, leaving Jean struggling for breath as she nearly choked on her own tongue.

Sputtering as she opened her eyes for what felt like the first time, Jean sat straight up, nails digging into Scott’s skin as she struggled for something, anything to ground her. She was like a live wire, surging with power and desperate for somewhere to direct it all, but she held it in, frightened for Scott’s safety as well as the safety of the rest of the crew. Jean continued to breathe heavily, reminding herself that she was no longer stuck in her hazy memories or out in the cold depths of space. She was safe, here with her family.

“Jean—Jean, you’re hurting me _._ ” As Scott spoke again, his voice wavering, Jean froze in place. The telepath looked down to where she had taken hold of Scott’s arm, realizing that there was now a slow, steady stream of warm blood dripping from his skin. Jean quickly pulled her hand away, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Scott could see that she was upset. It wasn’t exactly hard to tell, but as he reached out once again, wholly unafraid of the woman who had unintentionally hurt him not moments before, Jean pulled away.

It was cold there in the metal confines of the X-Jet as Scott sat there staring, terrified, worried, and lonely all at once, and as Raven turned the plane around and aimed them towards home, the eerie silence that was left in the wake of their severed contact took shape and encompassed the chamber, causing a general feeling of unease to settle in the pit of Jean’s stomach.

_Welcome home._


	2. Dubium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's powers begin to manifest, boiling just beneath the surface.

A crease cemented itself in Hank’s brow as he was left staring at the machines before him. He looked them over again and again, analyzing the dull metal until the numbers didn’t even make sense to him anymore. Not that they had made sense to begin with. These readings were off the charts, and as Hank looked down to the metal examination table, still stunned by the readings, he gave Jean a bit of a reassuring smile. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable with prolonged silences or fascinated stares. 

“How are you feeling? Anything different?” Hank asked, still refusing to turn away from the data.

“You wouldn’t believe it, but even after everything that’s happened I feel… great.” Hank nodded in response, rubbing his chin in thought. That statement lined up with the data. Anyone with this much power should feel, well, powerful. 

“Just a little bit longer.” Hank immediately turned back to the monitors, scratching the back of his head. The readings Hank was getting off of Jean were so high it sent the machine into a fit, lights flashing and then refusing to flash as it frantically attempted to decipher the input it was receiving. Not even Charles had readings like this.  _ This can’t be right _ . 

“What can’t be right?” Jean asked, catching Hank off guard. 

“Did you just read my mind without permission?”

“I didn’t mean to.” A part of Hank doubted that, but then again her powers had fundamentally changed since they’d all been to space. Even her DNA was different, merged together with something… other. Something  _ better.  _ Hank’s hypothesis? It was the celestial body Jean had absorbed that was changing the very fiber of her being, rewriting her code even as they spoke. “I promise, Hank. I didn’t mean to. What’s wrong?”

“Your readings are off the charts. My equipment can’t even scan you anymore,” Hank said with an astounded little gasp, running a hand through his notably brunette hair. There was no need to be his furrier, bluer self at the school. Besides, it was easier to work when his hands weren’t the size of tennis rackets and he wasn’t shedding all over the place. 

“What does that mean?” Jean gave him a worried look, but Hank quickly shrugged it off. He wasn’t very worried about their situation. If anything, he was excited for Jean to have the chance to exercise these new powers. It was just another way to keep everyone safe, another avenue for protection, and that’s what mattered the most to Hank. 

“We build better machines. That’s what that means.”

***

There was a quiet rage boiling in Raven’s eyes as she barged into Charles’ office, startling the professor up from his pile of paperwork. A moment of silence was exchanged between them, as if to dare the other to speak first. Eventually, it was Raven who won their own personal war of attrition as Charles wheeled out from behind his desk, already backpedaling in preparation for what he knew Raven was going to say. It’s not as if she was holding it back. If anything, she was broadcasting how upset she was with Charles. Even so, she appeared to him as a sister, her blue scales giving way to plush, pink skin and blonde hair.

She knew that Charles responded better to  _ normal _ .

“I know you’re upset,” he began, desperation lacing the chords of his voice. 

“You’re damn right I am. We could have died up there, Charles! Not just some of us. We  _ all _ could have died. You’re playing games with our lives for what, power? Recognition?” Raven could feel the veins pop in her neck as she strained her voice, doing her best not to yell. She didn’t want to take the chance of having any of the students hear them.

“It is  _ not _ for power. Or recognition. You know as well as I do that the moment the humans decide we’re not doing enough, we all come under fire. Our entire species could be in peril if we don’t do our part. I for one don’t want that on my conscience. Do you?” Charles did his best to meet Raven’s intimidating gaze, but he had to look away. Raven liked to think it was because his conscience was getting the better of him, though she wasn’t so sure that was the case. Nonetheless, she hadn’t lost complete hope in Charles. 

“We shouldn’t risk lives just to appease mankind. You act like you’re willing to forsake your own people just for a few smiles and a pat on the back. I really hope that’s not the case.”

“No one’s forsaking anyone, Raven! I—”

“Say that again, Charles! Say that again! It’s your fault that Jean absorbed that—whatever that was, and it’s your fault she almost died!” Charles was rendered silent as Raven finally screamed in his face, the deafening roar of her voice only making the silence that followed that much more damning. There would be no coming back from this, Raven thought. Not for them. It was just another example of the divide that had built itself up between them in the years they’d known each other. 

Gone were the years of childish naivety, filled with hopes for a world that accepted mutants. Over the decades those hopes were replaced fears. Negative experiences. And even though she was no longer fighting on Erik’s side of the war, it was days like today that made her wonder if she had made the wrong decision. Raven would never see eye to eye with Charles, not really, and it was that kind of butting heads that prevented real progress from being made. 

“You’d better reconsider your priorities, Charles. For our sakes and yours. I’m not always gonna be around to talk you back to your senses.” At that, Raven spun on her heels, slamming the door open and making her way back to her room. 

***

Scott held back a chuckle as his visor crashed against Jean’s face, getting in the way as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. The visor certainly was a helpful tool and he was thankful for how Hank had designed it, because not only did the device hold back his powers and allow him to see, but it was also useful for battle. Though the issue remained that it made certain other things… difficult. For one, he couldn’t kiss his girlfriend without her feeling the twinge of cold metal on her skin. Compared to what his problems could have been, kissing Jean while wearing the visor didn’t really seem like that big of a deal, but Scott couldn’t help but feel as though he were missing out on a certain intimacy only brought on by total skin on skin contact and the ability to gaze into each other’s eyes.

“Uh, sorry,” Scott apologized, an awkward smile gracing his lips as he moved to rub the back of his neck, pulling away ever so slightly. His arms were still laced around Jean and he held her close, standing opposite of her in the middle of the room. “Still getting used to, well, this. Don’t think it was made for kissing.” He pointed at the visor that seemed to stand between them, shrugging his shoulders. There was nothing he could do about it. His mutation wasn’t going away anytime soon, so he figured it was in his best interest not to dwell on it too much.

“Maybe I can help with that.” When Jean spoke, Scott furrowed his brows.

“What do you mean, help?”

“Shh, let me show you.” Without another word, Jean raised a hand to Scott’s face. She caressed his cheek, her touch as gentle as her hand was soft, and as she pulled her hand away Scott caught himself leaning closer once again. “Sit still for a second.”

Scott fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, but he ultimately obeyed, biting his lip to keep himself in place. He watched as Jean’s hand hovered in the air between them, her fingers passing through the air slowly, sensually, as if it were water or molasses as opposed to nothing at all. There was a friction there, but it quickly gave way under her will. As Jean waved her hand, a gentle twinge manifested itself behind Scott’s eyes. It wasn’t painful, but it did catch the young mutant off guard, a worried sound erupting in the back of his throat.

_ Don’t fight it. It’s gonna be alright. _ Jean whispered into his mind, the sound of her voice offering Scott a moment to just breathe. Relax. And as he did, the crimson glow that constantly encompassed his vision bled away to awe inspiring color. When was the last time he’d seen a shade of blue as beautiful as the one in Jean’s eyes? A gold as brilliant as the sun that flooded the room, veiling Jean it its splendor? A dumb smile spread across Scott’s lips as Jean slowly but surely pulled his visor away, her mutation all that held his at bay. 

“I can see you.” Scott gasped in disbelief, his hand covering his mouth as he stared at Jean with a new pair of eyes. Her alluring and venerable image was no longer clouded by the psychedelic haze his eyes usually generated. Scott felt so happy he could die. “Could you always do this?”

“I don’t know.” Jean’s eyes narrowed as her hand hovered there in the space between them, pausing a moment before allowing her hand to fall to the wayside. His vision remained—normal. “But it’s working, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s totally working. I can’t believe this.” Scott was left breathless for a moment before he reached out, hooking one of his arms around Jean’s waist. Pulling her flush against his chest, Scott ran his free hand through Jean’s tumultuous mane of red hair, which he was just now realizing wasn’t as loud and fiery as he’d once thought. No, the ginger hue held more of a quiet, rising power. The warm sparks signaling the beginning of a massive forest fire, lingering just beneath the smoke. “We can finally be together. Completely.”

It was in that moment that Scott could no longer hold back the physical expression of his heart bursting with the love and adoration he felt for Jean. He leaned forward, grip tightening in a loving fashion on her waist as he finally pressed his lips to hers, uninhibited by the rigid metal of his visor. A subtle gasp parted Scott’s lips as he felt Jean’s eyelashes flutter against his cheek for the first time, and for one blissful moment he felt wholly complete. His heart swelled with love, his body hummed with passion, and Scott knew in that moment that this was the woman he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. He felt one with Jean then, as if their consciousnesses had somehow merged. They weren’t just Jean and Scott when they were together. They were two halves of a whole, made complete in their dwelling with one another. 

Pulling away just to get lost in her eyes again, Scott smiled at Jean as she nuzzled against his hand. As Scott journeyed through Jean’s gaze, his mind went blank, leaving him lost in the moment before his thoughts wandered back to that twinge lurking just behind his eyes. How was Jean doing that? How powerful was she? The thought in equal parts thrilled and scared Scott. For one, who knew what else Jean could do? He’d watched on as she melted the very flesh from the bones of Apocalypse and absorbed entire celestial bodies in the depths of space without need for things like a helmet. Or air. She was stronger than his brother had ever been. Jean may even be stronger than the professor. Scott knew better than most that all that power could be useful, but it was dangerous, too. 

_ Quiet.  _

Before Scott had jumped too far down the rabbit hole of contemplating Jean’s power, Jean ran her thumb across his cheek, bringing him back to the moment. His thoughts became quiet and his worries melted away, and all Scott wanted to do was kiss Jean again. So he did, again and again, until his lips were numb to everything but the feeling of her skin. Jean took him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him as close as she could, causing Scott to stumble forward, tripping over their feet and taking Jean down with him. Jean slowed their descent, resting herself comfortably down on the carpet with Scott on top of her. For a moment Scott froze in place there, blushing a dark shade of red, but as he was left frozen Jean seized the moment and flipped the two of them so that she rested on top of his lap. 

“Let me take care of you,” Jean said, causing Scott to gulp down the lump that was rapidly forming in his throat. He quickly nodded, rendered at a loss for words as Jean pressed a soft kiss to his neck. Taking hold of the bottom of his shirt, Jean snuck her hand underneath, her cold flesh tantalizing his sensitive skin. Scott let out a quiet huff, eyes fixated on the beauty before him. 

“Okay,” Scott breathed, his whisper barely audible above the sound of their breathing. With her newfound permission, Jean raised Scott’s shirt over his head, pressing a trail of wet kisses down his chest. She allowed her sweater to fall to the floor beside them, unbuttoning the first buttons of her shirt. Breath quivering in excitement, Scott’s hands sneaked up Jean’s sides a genuine smile embedded itself in his cheeks, leaving him to marvel at just how lucky he was. 


	3. Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean loses control for the very first time. A memory bears Jean's witness to the death of her parents.

Jean watched on in amazement as the aptly named Dazzler danced across her makeshift stage, lights flitting from her fingertips in a flurry of bright and awe-inspiring color. Her voice was that of an angel, if such things existed, and if they didn’t? Well, Jean was confident enough that Alison’s voice was among the best, its ethereal tones sending a shiver down the telepath’s spine and moving her soul to dance. 

Though she wasn’t dancing alone. Fourth cup of the night firmly in hand, still filled to the brim with whatever cheap beer Jubilee had managed to get her hands on, Jean began to move to the beat with Scott by her side. As she gazed around them, Dazzler’s lights illuminating the trees and brightening up the dark forest, Jean smiled as she saw a few familiar faces. Peter was zipping around the party, moonwalking just to show off and stealing sips from other people’s cups as Kurt desperately tried to keep up the pace, teleporting around behind him. Ororo was watching Dazzler’s show carefully, as if she were committing every movement, every note to her alcohol-addled memory. Warren was being… Warren, catching the lights on his metal wings in a desperate and drunken attempt at flirting with whoever he could get his hands on.  

As the party raged on around them, Jean took a quick sip from her drink and turned towards Scott, her gaze bright and playful. “Care to dance?” she asked, taking Scott by the hand and pulling him deeper into the fray of mutants, everyone dancing and drinking together. Scott’s visor was back, fixed firmly upon the bridge of his nose as he looked around, scanning their surroundings while he was still sober.

“You know I’ve got two left feet,” Scott said with an awkward chuckle, his mind racing with fears of stepping on Jean. His thoughts made her smile, even if she was tapping into them without really meaning to. They weren't like before, her telepathic powers. More and more, she found her consciousness leaking into parts of her friends and her teammates that she knew she wasn’t necessarily allowed access to. And while she’s always been able to get there if need be, nowadays she’d found herself hearing their innermost thoughts without even trying. They just came to her, sometimes loud, sometimes soft, but always there. 

Ever since she’d absorbed that mysterious power, it was a miracle that Jean even found a way to sleep at night.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to be the other two right feet,” Jean said with a shrug, the tempo of her movements picking up as Dazzler shifted into a faster paced song. Scott quickly fell into rhythm, following the patterns that Jean displayed, but as the two of them wandered deeper and deeper into the undulating mass of students, a nervous hum began to cloud Jean’s mind.

_ Too much. Too much. Quiet. _

Jean’s hands flew to her head as a splitting migraine cut her in two, the rest of her drink spilling down to the grass below. Her blood pumped, ringing in a deafening screech in her ears, and for a moment the world around Jean seemed to collapse. 

_ Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. _

The voice in her head, which had once been a soft whisper, grew in volume and intensity with each heavy beat of her heart. It nearly caused Jean to collapse to her knees, the pain in her head growing. And the pain wasn’t just growing, it was spreading, too. Her skin was on fire, her body felt just as weightless as it had been in space, and Jean could feel the very molecules in the air around her shift, burning the moment she came into contact with them. The music was too loud. Everyone’s  _ thoughts _ were too loud. It all needed to stop, and it needed to stop now.

_ QUIET! QUIET! _

“ _ Quiet! _ ” Jean shouted through grit teeth as she closed her fists, finally releasing the energy that was wound so tightly inside her. She felt relieved as that powerful heat burst from her veins, but that relief was short lived as she watched it push Scott from her arms and down to the ground. And it wasn’t just Scott. Jean watched on as every single person in attendance was thrown from their feet, her inner heat scorching their skin. Even the trees were pushed from their foundations, their leaves catching fire and illuminating the forest in place of Alison, who had been knocked from her makeshift stage and now lay unconscious in the singed underbrush.

“Jean? Jean!” Scott’s voice was an afterthought in Jean’s mind as her legs turned to jelly, sending her body cascading to the ground. Something inside her slowed her descent before she’d even had the chance to think, leaving her lying comfortably on the ground, but the ground beneath her wasn’t covered with the lush, green grass that had dwelled beneath her feet just moments before. Instead it was scorched earth, the pattern of charred foliage and dark soil radiating out from underneath her in every direction. 

_ We must sleep, girl. You’ve over exerted yourself. We still have much to fix,  _ the voice inside of Jean said as her consciousness began to fade in and out. She was vaguely aware of a pair of hands on her rapidly cooling shoulders and a voice in her ear, begging her to wake up, but soon enough Jean gave in to the force dwelling inside her, granting it the sleep it so desired.

***

Jean sat quietly upon the cool leather car seat, staring ahead at the radio as yet another droning love song graced the airwaves. She didn’t know how her mother could possibly like these songs so much, slow songs that told the same old sob story in the same old melancholic key. Jean was bored, idly listening to the radio and her parent’s lackluster thoughts.

“Can you change the radio station?” Jean asked politely, folding her tiny hands in her lap.

“After this song.” Jean knew that her mother had no intention to change the radio station, even after this song was up.

“You said that three songs ago!” Jean crossed her arms in rebellion, a pout forming on her lips. She was met with her mother’s entertained stare in the rear-view mirror, taking her eyes off of the road for only a moment. 

“Alright, how’s this sound—when you’re old enough to drive, you get to pick the music. That sound fair?” her mother asked, eyes returning to the road. Jean refused to dignify her with a response, still dedicated to retaining her position of rebellion. When she didn’t respond, Jean’s mother began to sing along to the music, fracturing Jean’s already weak self control. The young telepath reached out with her mind, actively trying as opposed to passively listening for the first time in a very long time. She listened closely to the world’s radio waves, to the stations and the thought of the people working there so far away, and when Jean found a song she liked she reached out from the safety of the backseat, shifting the radio antenna just enough to change the station.

_ Werewolves of London. _

Jean’s mother gave the radio an odd look, but she shrugged her shoulders, passing the occurrence off as a technological fluke before changing the station back to what she had been listening to before. But Jean wasn’t going to let that happen. Treating it as a game, she shifted the receiver again, this time much easier than the last. 

“That’s odd,” her mother muttered under her breath, looking over to her father in the passenger seat for a fleeting moment. He said nothing, but her father was already beginning to catch on that this was likely Jean’s doing. He changed the channel back, watching Jean carefully as he did so. Without so much as blinking, Jean shifted it back, but as she did something shifted. His accusatory voice in her head grew louder, coupled with her mother’s confusion. Their thoughts quickly grew in volume until it felt as though they were angry, righteous monsters in her mind, the sound only made more terrifying and visceral by the wolves howling on the radio and in her head. 

_ Did you do this, Jean?  _ her father asked. Or thought. Jean couldn’t tell whether or not he was speaking or thinking as she looked down to her feet, holding her head in her hands in a desperate attempt to quiet the storm that was rapidly forming in her mind. She could only keep it at bay for so long. If she didn’t calm down, if  _ he  _ didn’t quiet down, it was only a matter of time before she lost control.

“No, it wasn’t me,” Jean replied to either his words or his thoughts as she squeezed her eyes shut, the weight of her own lie only weighing heavier on her heart and her mind. She felt as though it would grow to swallow her, condemning her to darkness and howling anger forever. As her psyche continued to devolve, Jean rocked back and forth in her seat, as if the movement would somehow shut out the sound. She could no longer understand what her father was saying, and as her mother joined in, her worried tone cutting Jean to the core, the young telepath felt as if she was going to explode. Quiet. She needed quiet.

“ _ Quiet! _ ” There was a moment of complete silence as Jean pushed everyone away. The silence was broken by the muffled sound of her mother’s skull cracking, the very force of Jean’s anguish slamming her mother’s head against the steering wheel, and just as Jean had lost control of her powers, her mother lost control of the car. Jean’s powers reached out, feeling for her mother, and she was left mortified to find that there was no response. Only an empty and lifeless darkness.

They were airborne for only a moment, thrust off course as the car grazed an oncoming semi, but to Jean that moment felt like an eternity. As one moment stretched into a thousand, Jean formed a protective barrier around herself, shielding her body from the shards of metal and glass that broke away from the car in the midst of the crash. But even she could not protect herself from the mental anguish that followed as the vehicle finally flipped and came skidding to a halt on the ground, the young girl watching helplessly from the back as her mother hung, lifeless in the front seat. 

She was dead. She was dead, and it was all Jean’s fault.

As if such a situation could even get worse, Jean was forced to observe as her father unclicked his seatbelt, falling to the roof of the car in a desperate attempt to make his way over to hold his dead wife. His skin was bloody, shred to pieces by the very glass and metal Jean had shielded herself from. Jean tried shutting her eyes, blocking out the images and the thoughts in her head, but no matter what she did her powers continued outside her control. She could see what was going on, if not through her own eyes then through her father’s. Once he wrapped his arms around her mother, her father went still and his mind went quiet. Was he dead, too?

A flurry of other memories passed through Jean’s mind as she was thrust from this past reality, some so fast that she couldn’t truly process them. They were, for the most part, familiar memories. Memories of her meeting Charles for the first time, of him taking her hand and showing her a world where mutants could be accepted. A hypothetical world at the time, but in more recent years Charles had begun to act as if this dream had become a reality. A part of Jean doubted that, and it was no small part, either. But as she was slowly roused from her reverie, eyes fluttering open, Jean’s heart was crushed by that memory she’d forgotten. She was the one who killed her parents. But how could she have possibly forgotten that? That sort of trauma wasn’t something a person forgets.

Unless she was made to forget.


	4. This is Where I Leave You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean makes a decision. Vuk locates the Phoenix Force.

_Charles._

It was almost a summons, the way Jean called out for the professor, though even in her own mind the voice didn’t necessarily sound like her own. The voice felt powerful. Self assured. _Angry._ And the best part about it? Jean loved the feeling. It was as if she’d been given a conduit to speak her own mind, to become her own person, and to fully know herself for the very first time, both the good and the bad. Jean could feel the professor responding almost immediately, probing her mind as he often did, but this time Jean wasn’t going to let him run rampant and violate the very core of her human sense of self without cause or her express permission. She shut him out, cutting Professor Xavier off from the inner workings of her mind. Her mind was her own, no matter what Charles had done to her before or whatever he had to say. 

Sitting up in bed, Jean realized that she was not alone in the confines of her room. Scott sat there, alone, sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. She offered him a smile, though it faltered ever so slightly, sullied by the anger she felt in her heart. Leaning in close, Jean pressed a kiss to Scott’s forehead, watching as he too rose to wakefulness. 

“Jean?” Scott asked, as if in disbelief. Without hesitation, he threw himself at her, wrapping his arms tight around his beloved girlfriend and pressing a brief but passionate kiss to her lips. “Thank goodness you’re finally awake. I was so worried about you.”

“How long was I asleep for?”

“A couple of days. You had us worried sick.”

“A couple of days?” It certainly hadn’t felt like Jean had been asleep for anything longer than a few hours. She didn’t feel groggy, didn’t feel weak. If anything, she felt stronger than before, the power coursing through her veins thick, hot, and heavy. But as she began to contemplate her powers once again, Jean noticed a peeling burn climbing its way up Scott’s arm. “Did I do that?” she asked, a look of horror crossing the sharp features of her face.

“Oh, this?” Scott pointed to the burn, trying his best to hide just how big it was and how much it hurt just to move his arm. “It’s no big deal. Nothing more than a scratch, really. Honestly. It looks worse than it feels.” He was lying. Jean could tell.

Before Jean had the chance to respond, she let out a sudden cry of pain as a hostile and icy feeling flooded her mind. She could feel Charles struggling for control yet again, but this time there was something different. He was more powerful than before, but how? Without so much as a conscious thought, Jean’s thoughts flew to Charles’ side, taking in the sight of the world through Hank’s eyes. The professor sat there in front of him, Cerebro wired to his mind with wiry metal chords as he caused the world around them to light up with the colors of Jean’s mind. He showcased her private thoughts. Her intimate secrets. Her hidden past. It was all on display for the professor to see, as well as Hank and Raven, who stood cooly off to the side. She had to take control and shut it down before anyone else saw her for who she really was.

“Jean! Jean, what’s wrong?” The sound of Scott’s voice brought Jean back to her own line of sight, an angry grimace on her face as her veins began to burn with power once more. 

“He’s in my head. Get out! Get out of my head!” Jean cried as her hands flew to her temples, pressing on the pressure point there in a desperate attempt to help focus her mind. “ _Get out, Charles!_ ” As she screamed, the lights around them flickered until they finally snuffed out, the dull glow of Jean’s skin and Scott’s visor now the only light sources in the room. Her powers beat to the rhythm of her heart, that telekinesis of hers throbbing against the room and against Scott. The sound of her own blood pumping in her ears was so loud that Jean didn’t hear Scott whince, and as she worked to push Charles out of her mind she could feel herself slipping further and further from control once again. She felt everything. Everything around her, everything off in the distance, she even felt the long lost presence of someone familiar.

_YOUR FATHER IS ALIVE._

_Please, Jean! I can explain!_ Charles begged as realization flooded over Jean, the sound of his voice warping as she fought to shut him out. _It was for your own good!_

 _How could taking my own memories from me possibly be for my own good? How could you keep my father from me?_ Jean’s voice reverberated audibly in the room around her, the power of her mind so potent that it brought the words to life even as she directed them at Charles. 

 _A child shouldn’t have to deal with such things!_ _  
_

_But it_ happened, _Charles! Those memories were mine. You had no right!_ There were tears streaming from Jean’s eyes as she realized that she was floating off of the ground, her body weightless as she hovered there in the air. Things were beginning to get out of hand. Her powers were getting out of hand. She needed to leave, to calm herself down before she hurt Scott. Jean couldn’t do that to him, not _again_. 

“I’m leaving,” Jean said as she finally slammed the door on Charles, successfully blocking him from her mind and from the inner workings of her heart despite his use of the dreaded Cerebro. She could feel the crackling electricity as the machine shut down, all but destroyed from the force of her power. Scott replied to her decision with a silent, betrayed look, his eyebrows quirking up from underneath his visor. 

“But Jean—you can’t just leave! You can’t leave _me_!” Scott exclaimed, the pain evident in the way he hunched his shoulders and leaned forward, desperate to be close to Jean. She could feel it, his needy desire to hold onto whatever part of her he could in order to somehow convince Jean to stay. It broke her heart, but she couldn’t bear to stay there beneath the professor’s rule any longer.

“If I stay, I… I can’t control it, Scott,” Jean began, pleading with Scott to see her reasoning. “I know that I’m going to hurt you again. I don’t know what _this thing_ is inside me! It’s burning me up from underneath my skin. It’s… It’s _talking_ to me, Scott! And until I can control it I need to stay away from you.”

“I can help you! We can help you! The professor—”

“ _No!_ ” A singeing burst of air bled from Jean’s skin as she denied the possibility of ever working with Charles again, and as it did Scott was pushed back against the wall, now nursing a fresh burn on his cheek and fresh burns to his clothes. The ground between them had cracked, shattering the foundation of the school and setting the two of them apart. Jean looked on in horror to see what she had done. Intentionally or not, she’d hurt Scott again, and she knew that if this went on she’d do it again and again. She could kill him without so much as batting an eye. If she ever did do such a thing, Jean wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. Not that she could ever forgive herself for what she’d already done.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Scott,” Jean muttered just beneath her breath as she wiped a stray tear from her eye, backing away from her love until she was running out the door. Scott leapt over the rapidly crumbling divide that had spread between them and sprinted after her, desperate to prove that he was somehow just fine, despite the burn, despite the shocking betrayal of Jean leaving,  but by the time Scott had made it out the door Jean had disappeared.

***

Vuk let out a displeased huff as she fiddled with the shapeshifting device affixed to her wrist. The tech had been fashioned for the D’Bari by their ally, the Skrulls, in an effort to more easily unify their combined armies, but in Vuk’s opinion the only reason that such a device was even considered for manufacturing was because it was easier to run an infiltration mission if everyone involved could take the form of a native. It had been based on the Skrull’s own genetic mutation, cloaking the D’Bari and allowing them to, in this case, bleed red for a change, but Vuk had never really enjoyed portraying herself as something other than what she was. She was the leader of the proud D’Bari race and a delegate of the Shi’ar Empire, but her platoon had been marooned on Terra, a young planet inexperienced in the art of space travel. Terrans were just beginning to accept mutants within their own race. If they were discovered as a group of invading aliens, whether they were invading or not, it was more than likely they’d be shot on sight.

Her platoon was a sea of green men and women, D’Bari and Skrulls, each affixed to bright screens in a dying spaceship. Even Vuk was staring at a bright screen, rereading the mission update she’d received from her superior.

 

> MISSION UPDATE: GSD 006-007-19-0616
> 
> D’KEN. HEIR TO THE THRONE OF THE SHI’AR.
> 
> RE: MAROONING OF THE DEATHBIRD
> 
>  
> 
> CLASSIFIED.
> 
>  
> 
> Continue to study the Phoenix Force while stranded on Terra. 
> 
> A dispatch team sent from the empire. But it will only arrive 
> 
> once you have the force in your custody. We would prefer the 
> 
> host to be alive, to study her, but we understand if that is not 
> 
> possible, so long as the Phoenix Force is apprehended. Do not 
> 
> disappoint me again, Vuk. You won’t like the consequences.

 

It was a short update, but it sent chills down Vuk’s spine nonetheless. She had failed to apprehend the Phoenix Force before the Terrans, allowed her crew to get caught in the resulting blast, and fried a good portion of their tracking equipment upon their descent to Terra itself. If she didn’t acquire the Phoenix Force soon, there was a good chance she’d be exiled. Or worse. 

“Prime Matrix, we’ve found something.” One of Vuk’s fellow D’Bari stood from his assigned seat, regarding her with reverence. He looked away the moment he caught her attention, turning his gaze to the slightly cracked, sparking screen in front of him. She moved closer, towering over him from behind. “There’s been another energy discharge in New York.” Pointing to the screen, the private showed Vuk varying readings of spiking red and orange, causing her eyes to widen. 

“The Phoenix Force… We’ll find it there. It _has to be_ there,” Vuk muttered through grit teeth, determination permeating her voice as she began to adjust the settings on her shapeshifting device. Soon enough, milky blonde hair began to fall from her scalp, framing her verdant cheeks as that green skin of hers slowly began to fade to white. Her face contorted from its rectangular shape, bulbous eyes, upturned nose, and slender mouth all shrinking to fit and appease the human form. Turning her new set of eyes to the road ahead, Vuk wore a triumphant smirk, doing her best to find the words to spur her crew on, D’Bari and Skrulls alike. 

“I have only one thing to say to you,” Vuk began as she strode out onto the bridge, looking each and every one of her charges in the eye. They needed to see the determined fire that blazed in her heart, really see it, if this mission had any chance at success. “We win back the Phoenix Force for the great Shi’ar Empire, or we die trying. Do you understand?” Her countrymen responded with a uniformly solemn nod, many too frightened or too intimidated to speak up or even look her in the eyes. Success or death. There were only those two scenarios. Her crewmates knew it too, and as Vuk opened the hatch door and stepped out into the cool night air, she left there knowing that their quest had only just begun.


	5. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven leaves a message for her son. Jean visits her father.

A heavy weight settled itself in Raven’s chest as she gazed around the X-Jet, her heart feeling as though it would cave in on itself in grief. The X-Men had lost a member of the family that day. You could see the loss plainly on each of their faces, and even if Jean was still alive, Charles had made certain that she would never return the same. And even though Raven knew that this was Charles’ fault, that he was the one who had put up walls in Jean’s mind and that he was the one that had sent her into the arms of that…  _ thing,  _ Raven still felt painfully guilty. What if she could have done something to stop him?

Even now, with the whole crew on the X-Jet, Raven still felt that Charles shouldn’t have come. 

The vehicle was silent, save for the soft hum of the engine and the sound of Raven’s own breathing in her ears. No one dared to speak. Not even Peter, who looked so anxious that he seemed as though he’d burst from his own body at any second. His knee bounced at supersonic speeds, the earbuds of his old Walkman and the beat of his music forcing him to keep his mind off of the task at hand. There were blank stares all around, prayers whispered in familiar tongues, but what really stood out to Raven was Scott’s reaction to the fact that they were tracking down Jean, someone he cared so much about, before she could hurt anyone else. An eerie glow radiated from just behind his visor, latent power and anger boiling just beneath the surface. His resolve was tenuous. Brittle. Raven knew that fragile feeling all too well. It looked remarkably similar to what she’d felt when Erik had inadvertently crippled Charles, or when she’d been forced to give up her own son in the wake of his father’s death to ensure their mutual safety.

Speaking of her son…

Raven turned to gaze upon Kurt and his flushed, tear-stained cheeks, the dark feeling in her heart blossoming into something more fundamentally earth shattering than even their woeful atmosphere could achieve. Kurt was praying, hands folded in that position that, for him, seemed so perpetually static that not even the mightiest of forces could move them. He began muttering the same familiar words over and over, going over them so much that Raven feared his tongue may start to bleed.

“Hold her in the light of God. Protect her from danger. Save her by your command. Listen to my prayer and keep her safe.” It was obvious to Raven who Kurt was praying for, even if she didn’t completely understand his choice to flee to a god that had seemed to forsake mutantkind. But even so, Raven understood the desire for comfort, for the safety blanket of an unmoving set of beliefs, even if their systems of belief didn’t entirely match up. Forcing herself to look away, fearful that her heart may tear in two if she watched for too long, Raven made her way to Hank’s side as he piloted the jet to the only logical location Jean would have fled to: her father’s house. 

“You know, you really shouldn’t walk around the cabin mid-flight. I don’t want something happening to you should we hit a rough patch of air,” Hank said, eyes soft as he watched her sit down in the co-pilot’s seat, but hearing that only seemed to sour Raven’s mood even further. Glancing back to her son for just a moment, Raven hesitated before speaking again.

“If something  _ does  _ happen to me, I need you to tell Kurt.” Raven was serious as sin as she spoke, yellow eyes scanning Hank to gauge his reaction.

“Don’t say that! Nothing is going to happen to you—I won’t let it.”

“Neither of us can be sure of that. If Jean loses control—”

“She  _ won’t  _ lose control.” But even as Hank spoke, it was apparent that even he didn’t necessarily believe that Jean was capable of holding herself back from doing just that.

“Promise me, Hank.” The furry blue mutant was silent for a long time before finally nodding his head.

“If that’s what’ll make you happy. But for her sake, for all of our sakes, we’d better hope and pray that it never comes to that.”

***

Apprehension burned a hole in Jean’s bleeding heart, as if it were attempting to cauterize the rage that seethed from her very fingertips. She was standing at his doorstep now, the porch of the father that had so easily handed her over to Professor Xavier and his school, trying her best to work up enough courage to knock on the peeling wooden door. How long had she been standing there? It felt as though she’d been camped out for days, examining the house from the outside and running through every possible method of reintroducing herself to her father, even though she’d only been there a handful of minutes at most.

_ Just knock on the door. _

Jean reached out, hesitating a moment as her hand grazed the wood’s cool, if not peeling paint. 

_ Knock. Go ahead, nothing can hurt you. _

“But he can hurt me.” Jean didn’t mean physically, of course, but no one was capable of causing her more emotional harm than her own father.

_ KNOCK. _

“Jesus Christ, okay! Okay, I’m knocking!” Aggravated by just how pushy the voice was being now that Jean was out on her own, the young telepath did just as it said. She knocked on the door, hand quickly retreating so that she could fidget anxiously with the hem of her shirt. There was no answer for a time, the gap in sound causing Jean to wonder idly for a moment if her father was even home. But she knew he was there. She could  _ feel  _ him. Or, perhaps,  _ it  _ could feel him. “See? I knew this was a bad idea—”

“Jean?” The gap in the silence was shattered as Jean heard a voice she’d once thought she’d only ever hear again in her memories.

“Dad?” Tears began to flow freely from Jean’s eyes as she took in the sight of her father, although he was a little worse for wear. His once vibrant red hair, now dulled with oily notes of gray, poked out in all sorts of directions from his head and was matted in the back, as if she’d just woken him up from a peaceful nap. The bags beneath his eyes were dark and his skin was dry, but perhaps the most concerning part about his demeanor was the way his hands shook as he hugged Jean back.

He was terrified of his own daughter, and Jean could feel every sour emotion as the negativity poured off of her father like an infectious disease.

“Come in,” Jean’s father said as he quickly pulled away, retreating into his house as if Jean were a complete stranger to him. Though, at this point, she might as well be. It had been decades since the two of them had seen each other, after all. Who was to know the extent to how much the two of them had changed? She certainly had. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Water, please.” The force inside of Jean seemed somewhat irked at that answer, but Jean was thirsty. She may have had incredible powers, but that didn’t mean she was impervious to basic human need. If anything, she needed more food to replenish the immense amount of energy she burned. More water to revitalize her body as her powers scorched her blood vessels and dried her from the inside out. Her father returned quickly, making sure to hand her the glass in a way that would ensure their hands would never touch. 

“Why did you come here, Jean?” There was resentment in his tone as Jean’s father crossed his arms, leaning up against the doorframe on the opposite side of the room. Jean was taken aback for a moment, knitting her brows together in confusion.

“Isn’t it obvious? I came to see you.” Jean let out a brief, mirthless laugh, dispelling the nervous energy that rose up and threatened to choke her. 

“But why? After all this time?” His words gave her pause, and Jean found herself shaking her head in confusion. She wanted to see her father. What other reason did she need? As a matter of fact, why hadn’t  _ he  _ ever come to see her? Why let her think he was dead?

Much more ready and willing to reach out with her mind despite the inherent consequences, Jean pressed her fingers to her temple—a habit she’d picked up over decades of emulating Charles. The moment she caught herself doing it, however, she pulled her hand away, continuing to use her powers without the crutch of such a benign focusing gesture. She wasn’t weak like Charles was. She didn’t need it.

Guilt. Regret.  _ Fear.  _ The litany of emotions that washed over Jean the instant she began to sift through her father’s ailing mind was overwhelming to say the least, bringing her back to that time in her youth when she was sitting upside down in the backseat of her mother’s car. She felt just like a child again, dangerous and untethered. For a moment she was back in that hospital room, surrounded by doctors that didn’t understand what they were seeing, but as she poked and prodded at her father’s mind she found herself merging with his own point of view within the sequence of events and approached, reaching her free hand out to cradle his face. 

“W-What are you doing?” Jean’s father asked, his voice shaking as he backed against the wall. Jean matched him step for step, trapping him there so she could more quickly and efficiently extract the information she needed from him. She read his mind, flipping through images of situations she’d never experienced until she’d finally found the moment her father had met Charles Xavier. Without much of an effort she was suddenly seeing through her father’s eyes, experiencing this part of the past as if she’d been there herself.

“It seems your daughter is quite capable, Mr. Grey,” a much younger Charles said, the warmth in his eyes reflecting the fire in his heart. There had once been such a youthful innocence in him, a true desire to do good, but over the years that light had been clouded with pride and doubt. It broke Jean’s heart to see the ghost of the Professor she once knew, but she pressed on nonetheless, desperate for the answers she felt she’d been deprived all her life. 

“Capable? That’s what you’re calling it?” Jean could feel her own hands shake from behind her father’s eyes, embodying the fear and the rage he had felt in that moment. “She  _ murdered my wife! _ ”

“Try to calm down, Mr. Grey. You and I both know that it wasn’t her intention to—”

“Forget intentions, that girl is a menace! _ ” _

Menace.  _ Menace.  _ Her father truly believed that Jean was a menace. She could feel that belief festering deep within him even now. 

“If you’d like, I’d happily take her into my school. She’s the perfect candidate for it, and I honestly believe that I could do a lot of good with her.” Charles pushed himself closer to Jean’s father and therefore to Jean as well, his voice going hushed as the conversation continued. “She’d be well taken care of, I can assure you, and you’d be able to visit any time you like.” Jean could feel a horrible shift in her father’s face. The way his eyebrows quirked up in relief, the way he took a deep and almost cleansing breath… the sickening smile that came to his cheeks at the thought of giving his daughter over to a complete and utter stranger. And as he smiled at Charles, all Jean could hear in her father’s head was  _ I’m finally free. _

“Take her. Please, please take her.”

Jean was thrown back to her own point of view as rage began to thrash in her belly, her own anger fueled and flaring with the power dwelling within her. It was angry too, and rightfully so. Her father had abandoned her in his fear of what she could do, what she couldn’t control, and Charles had taken her memories of him and her mother away from her. She felt… wrong, now that she was whole. Something needed to be done to make things  _ right. _

“This is all your fault, “ Jean said as her eyes began to glow, that powerful gaze of hers bearing down on her deadbeat father. The glass she’d been holding shattered under the force of her grip, and as held her father’s face in her hands she began to squeeze.

“Jean! Jean, you’re—you’re hurting me!” Her father cried out in pain, a whimper falling from his lips as her hands began to burn with the righteous anger Jean felt coursing through her veins. And then, when she refused to pull away as her hands burned into his flesh, he let out a scream. Jean wasn’t going to let go. She wasn’t going to try and stop the unrelenting power as it threatened his life, not this time. Instead, Jean squeezed. 

And squeezed. 

And squeezed.

It was her turn to smile sickly as her father’s body went limp before her, the house shaking as it struggled to contain her. A rush of adrenaline shot through Jean and, for the very first time, Jean truly felt good about feeling powerful, even if her hands still experienced the phantom feeling of her father’s flesh burning within her grip. Despite her father’s fear of her losing control, he’d been killed by a choice she’d made herself. 

Her power trip was remarkably short lived, cut off by the sound of the X-Jet whizzing overhead. She should have known that her friends wouldn’t leave her alone, not for long, if not of their own accord then by Charles’ order. But as she stepped outside, power freely flowing and thrumming around her, it was apparent that the X-Men wouldn’t be dealing with the same Jean they’d grown to know and love. 


End file.
